


What About Trust

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Bipolar Ian, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, M/M, Pain, Suicide Attempt, Talking, accidental abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 21:58:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8344339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: Prompt- Ian is slowly getting better but still has bad days. During this time Mickey gets hurt but tries to hide it so Ian doesn't get worried/upset but Ian eventually finds out. They have a talk about trust. Ian makes Mickey promise he won't ignore his own needs just to protect Ian and Mickey makes Ian promise he will come to him when he is feeling manic/depressive.





	

**Author's Note:**

> tw mention of suicide attempt

Ian slowly walked out of the bedroom after finally washing and dressing for the day. It was almost six o'clock in the evening, but he counted it as a little victory. He’d been sleeping off the drugs from his latest hospital stay for a couple days, and now was starting to feel like himself again. It had been scary, knowing he was spiraling and not being able to do anything about it. He hadn’t even been sure what triggered it, although his therapist mentioned something about stress and hormones, but one day he just felt like things would be better if he just wasn’t around. He doesn’t know why he thought of the knife he’d given Carl all those years ago, but his mind wouldn’t let it alone. He doesn’t quite remember it all, but he knows that if someone hadn’t come to the house and called Mickey, he might not be standing there watching him load the dishwasher.

Ian went over and wrapped his arms around Mickey, feeling him tense for a second. “Sorry.”

Mickey dried his hands on a dish towel before turning in Ian’s arms. “S'okay. Just didn’t hear you.” He looked tired and sad.

“No, I’m sorry for–”

Mickey pressed his mouth to Ian’s, shutting him up. Ian kissed him back, holding him tighter and not realizing how scared he was that Mickey might have been mad or done with him. It had been a long time since anything major, so it definitely dredged up old shit from the past. But here Mickey was, taking him back like always after saving his life.

“You’re too good for me,” Ian mumbled, ducking his head in shame. He didn’t deserve the boy with dark hair and blue eyes and a heart of gold.

“Don’t you say that, Ian,” Mickey sighed, not upset by his words but not wanting him to believe them for a second. He pulled him into another long kiss, running his hands through his wet hair.

Ian hummed against his lips, holding Mickey a little tighter to make up for lost time and to just get back to something normal and them. His hands roamed up his back and dug into the muscles, but then Mickey broke the kiss and gasped.

“What is it?” Ian asked.

Mickey shook his head, trying to pull Ian back to him. Ian went readily, continuing to work his hands from Mickey’s hips up to his back. Mickey’s tongue faltered in his mouth and he seemed to squirm away from his touch. Ian stepped back, concern falling over him.

“Mickey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, it’s fine,” Mickey waved him off, turning back to the dishwasher to turn it on.

“What’s fine?” Ian pressed, not liking the way Mickey looked awkward leaning over to press the buttons. “Mick?”

Mickey finally turned back to him, looking torn. His mouth opened a few times but nothing came out. He sighed and went over to the couch to sit down. “C'mere.” Ian went over and sat down, concern turning to worry and confusion when Mickey turned away from him and lifted his shirt.

“Oh shit!” Ian’s eyes went wide when he saw the big angry bruise on Mickey’s back. “Mickey what happened?”

Mickey turned back to him, looking defeated. “That day.”

Ian furrowed his brow. “What?”

Mickey swallowed, pressing his fingers to his temple’s for a bit. “You were trying to find…a knife, and you were upset and Debbie came home with the kid,” Mickey shook his head like it hurt to remember what happened.

Ian sat speechless, barely breathing as he knew in his gut he was about to hear that he hurt people he loved again and didn’t even remember.

Mickey took a breath and plowed on quickly like ripping off a bandaid. “It wasn’t your fault Ian, okay? It wasn’t,” he hedged.

Ian reached for Mickey, but pulled back, not wanting to do any more damage. “I did that to you?”

Mickey nodded then shook his head trying to take it back. “You were really angry you couldn’t find it. Started screaming and throwing stuff. Debs took the kid and locked them in her room, called me. When I got there you were wrecking the house. Had to calm you down….got mad and pushed me onto the stairs,” Mickey finished.

“Fuck,” Ian whispered, swallowing thickly because his mouth felt too dry. Why was it always his little sister or Mickey whenever it should’ve been himself? “Mickey, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” he cried.

Mickey held Ian, pressing kisses to his head. “Shh, it’s alright. Debbie and Frannie are fine. You’re okay,” he soothed.

Ian shook his head, “I hurt you, Mickey, and didn’t even know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mickey bit his lip when Ian looked at him. “It wasn’t important. I needed to get you out of there and to some help. Getting you better was all that mattered, and I didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

Ian frowned, immediately feeling worse. “If I’d gotten help sooner, this wouldn’t have happened,” he admitted quietly. Mickey tried to protest, but Ian wouldn’t have it. “No, Mickey, it’s true. It’d been good for so long, I didn’t believe…I wouldn’t believe it was getting bad. I could’ve told you so many times how I was feeling, but instead I waited til I hurt you and probably scared my niece.”

Mickey took his face in his hands. “You’re right, but we were both wrong. Okay? We didn’t tell each other when we were hurting. We’ll do better next time, though.”

Ian nodded slowly, grateful to have Mickey in his life again. “I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I feel off.”

“And I promise not to keep shit from you,” Mickey said. He kissed Ian’s forehead.

“Can I take care of you now?” Ian asked, carefully putting his fingers over the bruise.

Mickey nodded.


End file.
